


Let Me Keep You

by janezy



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Eliot's thoughts, Episode: s04e05 Escape From the Happy Place, Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 03:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18490483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janezy/pseuds/janezy
Summary: Eliot fails at keeping things boxed up.  Over and over again.





	Let Me Keep You

**Author's Note:**

> While waiting for the finale, I've been doing a rewatch of season 3. Especially in light of the conversation we now know took place when Quentin and Eliot returned, I was wondering what Eliot might have been thinking all that time.

When Eliot left his small, Indiana town and his small, Indiana life, it was without a single backward glance. He left with almost nothing, not because he had nothing, but because he had nothing he cared to keep. The 4H ribbons from the competitions his father bullied him into entering. The pictures of his robust brothers tackling him or putting him in a headlock. The flannel shirts and baggy jeans. None of these things would serve him in the new life he meant to create for himself. And neither would any of the relationships he'd had. He didn't care if he never again spoke to anyone he'd met in his life up until that point.

And, ever since, the majority of people he'd met had done little to dissuade him from the notion. His stumbling attempts at "cool" during undergrad left many a person who thought him quaint or childish. So, of course, they needed to go. And by the time he figured out how to be the fabulous bitch he was today, he had decided very few people were really worth caring about, anyway.

So, it came as somewhat of a surprise to find himself actually invested in the lives of his friends again. Not just Margo, but Fen and Julia. Even Alice. The whole of the Scooby gang. And Quentin. That was the biggest surprise. To find himself considering a relationship. To find himself thinking beyond the next fling. To be thinking about months, years into the future.

Quentin was important to him even before they were stranded for half a lifetime together. So important that when Quentin suggested doing it all over again, Eliot couldn't help but panic. He couldn't imagine risking the deep friendship they'd already managed to create for some theoretical romantic relationship. It had been easy to love one another in some pastoral landscape where, other than the seemingly unsolvable mosaic, their greatest challenge was keeping the roof from leaking. In this world, the real world, they were being constantly bombarded with crises and distractions. Maybe they could make it work. But maybe not. 

So he tried to brush it all away and pretend things were the same as always. When he hugged Quentin and sent him away on that quest to the Abyss, he had a niggle of doubt. But Quentin seemed totally normal. It seemed like they would be able to go back to the way things were.

When Quentin returned, it was a different story. He refused to even look at Eliot for the longest time. Quentin had that crazy chick, Poppy, with him. Then Alice was sick. Then he was busy trying to figure out how to get into the underworld to get the key back. And Eliot had his own shit going on. He was busy trying to get the fairies out of Fillory and keep himself in power. Like he had thought, he and Quentin couldn't weather the crises and distractions. He was happy to be proven right. They had dodged a bullet for sure if their relationship was becoming strained already and they weren't even trying for more.

But then, Eliot remembered Quentin mentioning something about the key creating a depression monster. What form had that taken for Quentin? What was that monster trying to convince him of? That he wasn't good enough? That no one loved him? Eliot shivered to think that, perhaps, his own rejection coming so close before played a large part in why Quentin couldn't meet his eyes anymore. And that was so far away from what Eliot had intended. He found a lot of his quiet moments taken up with thoughts of Quentin. Wondering what he was doing. How he was doing. 

But, fuck that. This was exactly what Eliot had been trying to avoid. Quentin had things to do and so did he. They couldn't be bothering with relationship drama right now. Margo needed him. Fillory needed him. 

So he tried to box it up and move on. But, no matter what he tried, it kept leaking out. The box wasn't big enough to keep him from hoping that Margo would agree to his plan to abandon Fillory to the fairies (temporarily!) so he could rejoin the quest to turn magic back on. It was merely incidental that such a plan would make it so that he would be on Earth and could see Quentin every day.

When he found out that Fray wasn't his and his own daughter had died, his first thoughts were for Fen. But even while he was telling her that he was a shitty husband and a shitty father, some part of him was calling out to the past. He hadn't always been a shitty husband. He'd been pretty terrific, in fact. And he'd been a spectacular father. He hadn't been there for Fen, but he'd been there for Quentin and Teddy.

Damnit! Box! Box it up, and move on, he ordered himself. 

So he let himself beg to remain High King to the unwashed masses trying to overthrow him. And, being lucky enough to survive that debacle, he forced himself to want that job more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life. If he wasn't going to have the job of being Quentin's husband, he was damn sure going to get something out of this. He forced himself to look right in Quentin's face when he said, "At some point, you either have to choose to follow through on something, or just, well, die."

Oh, Quentin's face at that hurt. But he could do this. He could make himself not wonder what that look meant. Did it mean why can't you follow through with me, then? Or was it more angry, like sure, now follow through is important to you.  Or -- 

For fuck's sake! Box! He didn't have time to think about what every bulge of Quentin's eyes or purse of his lips meant. He was running to be the leader of this malodorous shithole. And he was willing to do whatever it took to seize back control. 

He could fuck Idri and not compare him to Quentin. He didn't care that Idri was too big or too bald or that his voice was too deep or that he said his name all wrong. He didn't hear Quentin's breathy "El. El. Right there. Never stop," in the back of his mind. No, sir. That was boxed up good and tight. Finally.

Until the moment that Josh told them that he had lost and Margo was now High King. He had half a moment of jealousy, before it was quickly replaced by happiness. Margo was going to be a boss King. Much better than he had been. And he'd been a bag of dicks for not supporting her earlier. Plus, if he wasn't king, that would mean something. Less crises. Less distractions. More room for things to come out of boxes.

He had every intention of telling Quentin. As soon as this was over. As soon as they got magic back, they would have time to figure this out. He would apologize and Quentin, forgiving idiot that he was, would say that everything was okay and they would figure out how to be together in this time.

But then Quentin was saying that he was going to stay in Blackspire. Forever. And how could Eliot let that happen? How could he give up after everything? He cornered Margo and made her agree, though really it wasn't that difficult. 

Until now, he'd lived a life full of disposable people. But Quentin he meant to keep.


End file.
